Breaking Point
by Kryal
Summary: Ozai sent Zuko to serve in the Home Guard, rather than risk Iroh's influence with Zuko roaming the world looking for the Avatar. When love for family comes to be at odds with love for people, however, one or the other must break.


Send his eldest, his discredited heir, to wander the world with only his brother – his _failed_ brother, his pathetic brother, the brother whose name still at times outstripped his own, the brother who hid who knew what plots and schemes under tea and Pai Sho?

Ozai was many things, but a complete fool he was _not_.

Zuko wanted to _protect his people_. Very well. He would let the Home Guard have the foolish child, safely _out_ of his Uncle's influence, and Ozai could wash his hands of the boy.

* * *

**BREAKING POINT**

* * *

_He knew they were coming._

Zuko made his way through the rubble and the blood, and fought the urge to scream.

_He knew they were coming, and he _let_ them._

Strategically, he could understand why. A joint enterprise by the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes – odds were, the Avatar had thrown every resource he could into this one hit. By letting the invasion come, Ozai had successfully cornered and captured the ringleaders of what was, most likely, the only resistance _left_, with Ba Sing Se fallen and the North Pole too secure inside their walls to risk venturing out.

_ He knew they were coming, and he didn't warn us._

The Home Guard were _not_ stupid, dammit! A little warning, some shuffling of tactics – if they'd just known the plan was to let the invaders in and pincer them, they could have _helped_! The invaders had been… not overconfident so much as _focused_. So intent on getting past those first lines of defense that they hadn't paid attention.

If they'd known what was going on, Zuko's people could have put up a token defense, made it _look_ like they were forced to give way, and pulled back before they took any heavy losses.

They hadn't known. So they'd stood – they'd _died_ – defending their Fire Lord.

Their Fire Lord who'd never been in danger in the first place, because he _wasn't even there_.

_ He knew they were coming!_

"Sir?"

He blinked, realizing that he was staring up the slope to the caldera – and that his jaw hurt from gritted teeth, and sparks were beginning to strike around his clenched hands. _Dammit. Focus – your people need _you_, not your damn temper._

He inhaled, held it for a few moments, then slowly exhaled, trying to let the anger escape with the steam streaming from his mouth. He turned.

"Comman… Acting Captain Karin?" Captain Zhen had died at the Palace Road Gate, half her chest crushed by earthbent-stone. _Agni_, her daughters had visited barely a week or two ago to celebrate the solstice – she'd threatened to drag him to the party "because my sons are away and my husband needs another man to commiserate with."

She'd been the one to take a shocked and scarred prince in hand, and turn his punishment into a calling to _care for his people_. Even when it was grim, even when it was thankless, even when it _hurt_ to know that his father considered him worthless, to be shunted aside and forgotten.

_How the hell do I tell them she's gone?_

"We've secured the last of the invaders, sir. What are our orders?"

"Leaders are to be turned over to Lieutenant-General Bai's men," Zuko said, courteously ignoring the way the field-promoted Captain's dark eyes turned even darker and more distant at the name. Officers like Bai were _exactly_ why many of the Home Guard avoided command positions like the plague.

The Home Guard would _die_ for the Fire Nation. They didn't need to be mocked for it.

The Home Guard _had_ died…

_Enough_. His mind wasn't on task. He closed his eyes and breathed. "For the others… see that the wounded are treated and that benders are secured, and prepare them for transport to holding facilities. _Professionally_. They're prisoners of war. Make sure that those assigned to the prisoners are prepared to remember that, and treat them with respect."

"Sir." By the set of Karin's face, anyone who 'forgot' the obligations of being civilized would have to deal with her in person. Good.

Zuko looked out over the bay. "Coordinate with Akihama and Ishigura for reinforcements. And find technicians to look over the walls here, soon. I do _not_ want them coming down on our heads."

"Sir." Karin snapped a salute, then paused with uncharacteristic hesitation. "The casualty reports should be coming in soon."

Zuko swallowed. "…send them by messenger hawk. I need to report to the palace." _To ask what the _hell_ Father was thinking…_

"My prince," Karin said quietly. "If you hadn't sent the orders to stand down, our losses would have been much greater. You did well today."

_I didn't do _enough_!_ Zuko didn't shout it. He'd learned a _few_ things about keeping thoughts behind his teeth since that Agni Kai. But Agni, his heart was still pounding from that terrifying realization of how badly his people had been betrayed, the need to warn them,_ Fire Lord safe. Eclipse immanent. Withdraw or surrender._

_Don't die for nothing…_

* * *

Candle flames sputtered, reflecting the chaos that Zuko _couldn't_ show on the outside.

Zuko focused on forcing the taut muscles of his back and shoulders to relax; they'd stiffened over the course of the evening to rough-wrought iron knots, as he listened to Ozai and Azula and the generals _congratulating_ themselves on a _job well done_.

Although Ozai had made a point of reprimanding him – and by extension, the Guard – for failing to stop the invading army at Azulon's Gate, or in the port.

_As if the Army and Palace Guard did any better, once they got past us. As if you ever expected them to._

_ You never _meant_ us to be able to stop them._

Oh, but it was more than that. His father had not only _known_ about the invasion plan from its inception – he'd quietly _tracked_ the Avatar, minor civil disturbance by minor civil disturbance, across the entire nation.

_He knew where the Avatar was the whole time. He could have stopped him any time he wanted._

_ He didn't._

_ He _wanted_ the invasion to happen._

At least the Avatar and his friends had done something Zuko had wanted to do for years – taken out that damn factory on the river near Kawanaka. _Those people were poisoned and starving. Surely _something_ could have been done?_

But Ozai had forbidden his son to interfere with _anything_ pertaining to the war effort in the Earth Kingdom. Resources were too limited, he'd made quite clear, to cater to the delicate sensibilities of a cowardly prince with no greater vision, no stomach for _true_ battle.

_ While Azula gallivanted all over the Earth Kingdom – does she think that tanks grow on trees or something?_

For all he knew, she might. Certainly _Azula_ had never fought bureaucrats, merchants, and scant resources to try and equip an "insignificant," "unnecessary" force. The war and Father's favorite had never wanted for ready-made tools to hand.

Despite his best efforts, Zuko's hands clenched, and the flames roared up.

_And that's exactly what this was, wasn't it. A _tool_._

_ Let the invasion happen. Let people _die_._

_ And then… the Avatar got away. He might do it again._

_ Make the people angry. Make them _scared_. Feed the fury and the fear until the people will agree to _anything_, so long as it makes them feel safe again. Then they'll cheer you as you set out to…_

_ And what does it cost you? A few dead – and most of the dead were the Home Guard. The back lines. The ones who _protect our people_._

_ They're not army. They don't bring you glory._

_ So they don't matter._

Zuko's shoulders slumped as he pressed his hands against his face – though even that couldn't take the knowledge of that list resting at his desk, the names that would have to become letters, explaining that a mother, sister, daughter, father, brother, son wouldn't be coming home.

_Agni. The _Avatar_ cares for our people more than the Fire Lord does._

Flames stilled.

_I wish Uncle were here._

_ But Uncle worries about the world. I… can't._

_ I care about my people._

_ And this war is killing us._

He stood up. Exhaled.

The candle flames went out.

Prince Zuko's smile matched the darkness – grim, determined, absolute.

_Not on my watch._

* * *

"What about _him_?"

Following the earthbender's pointing finger, the group turned.

Zuko let them take in the sight of him: an armed, armored soldier in red and black – and gold, if they recognized the significance – standing "at ease" as he waited for them to notice his presence. Watched as they jumped, yelped, and reached for weapons. _Don't react_, he thought, watching the water swirling in particular, and remembering Uncle Iroh's odd philosophy lessons. Airbenders and earthbenders could start a move and then hold it – earth because holding fast was its strength, air because it _liked_ to move. Water, though… water was like fire; once you started a move, you had to keep it going or finish it. If anyone was going to lash out immediately, then, it would be the waterbender.

But for that minute, they were too startled, too off-balance.

_Best chance you're going to get. Use it._

He shrugged off the baldric holding his dao, and – with an internal wince and apology to the faithful weapons, but _I need to make myself clear_ – put them on the ground, dropping to a kneeling position to do so.

_Please get this, _please_ understand this, Uncle has _told_ me about the other nations but this is the only way I know how to _talk_ to you…_

"…huh?"

The Water Tribe swordsman – not to mention, the only one of the group who might be even Zuko's age, and wasn't that a disturbing thought, given that _he_ wasn't old enough to enlist? But the blue-eyed boy was eyeing him with a mix of skepticism, disbelief, and open curiosity, and waving his friends to stand down. "Hold up, guys. I don't think he's here to fight."

"Thank you," Zuko said, and grimaced when he had to clear his throat. An iron hand of tension was squeezing, and he'd probably be shaking if so much weren't riding on doing this _right_.

He reached up, pulled off the helmet, and set it aside.

Then he looked the Avatar squarely in the eyes, set his hands on the ground, and bowed _like in the Agni Kai, _please_ let this time be different!_

"Avatar Aang? My name is Zuko. I… I want to help you."

* * *

_AN: As a child, Zuko was headstrong, sheltered, idealistic, and honestly good-intentioned. If he'd been put in a position where those unfortunate scruples of caring about the fate of the people beneath him were encouraged…_


End file.
